


Violent Delights lead to Violent Ends

by thewinterbarnes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cas is a smol bean, Dean Cas High School au, Dean Winchester x Castiel - Freeform, Dean Winchester x Castiel Novak - Freeform, Dean is Not Heterosexual, Dean x Cas - Freeform, Dean x Castiel - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Angst, Destiel Fluff, Destiel High School AU, Destiel highschool au, High School Castiel/Dean Winchester, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, Human Castiel, M/M, References to Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet References, Shakespeare Quotations, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural highschool au, destiel smut, nerd!Castiel, supernatural high school au, theatre nerd!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinterbarnes/pseuds/thewinterbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the connotations that come with being labeled as a “theatre kid” (loud, dramatic, confident, ect), Castiel Novak wasn't any of those things. He admired the art from afar. He was just the quiet kid who kept his head down and did his work. He didn’t measure high school by how many people he slept with and how many parties he wouldn’t remember but by the time he spent and how each day he was one step closer to sweet, sweet freedom. However, that might all change when a new kid wearing a leather jacket and driving a black 67 Impala move in across the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boldness be my Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! Yes, I'm back! This is my second multi-chapter fic and my very first one for Destiel! For starters, I would like to point out that each chapter will be titled with a Shakespeare quote and by no means am I taking credit for it. Secondly, the title of this work is also derived from one. Thirdly, user analester (http://archiveofourown.org/users/analester) helped me and figured I'd give her a mention (she's great). That's all! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> ** This work was NOT proof read by anyone but myself, all mistakes are my own and most likely come from sleep deprivation **

Castiel Novak was your average teenager, for the most part. Maybe less social and more homosexual than your average teenager, but he got by. He didn’t have many friends. Or any, for that matter but that’s a given when you tell your best friend you like him as more than a best friend. That happened in the ninth grade and it seemed to follow him into his senior year at Bunker High. His lunches were spent alone and his weekends were uneventful. That was until he signed up for set duty of this years production of “Romeo and Juliet.” While Castiel despised that play in particular, part of him wanted to audition but he didn't have the confidence to do so. Not to mention he didn't need to provide more ammo for the students. Being gay was enough, but being gay in tights and having to kiss a girl? No way was Cas stupid enough do that. Even if it was his senior year at the school, he wanted to make it out alive. Not to mention his Dad would probably kill him and he didn't think the best way of coming out was explaining why the other students called you “Queerstiel.” Castiel probably wouldn't even blink at the nickname if it was clever, but the notes left in his locker were a painful reminder that it stuck. 

School had just ended for the day, which meant he had about fifteen minutes before he needed to be in the auditorium to begin set designing. The theatre teacher believed in getting a head start on the set so that if anything went wrong, they'd have time to find a replacement. Not to mention they had to get creative since most of the schools funding went to the sports team, much to the dismay of the art teachers. Every student had sat through the lecture of how arts were “just as important, if not more.” Cas had just enough time to grab a water bottle from a vending machine and make his way over to the auditorium to start working. He probably wouldn't have volunteered to help but he needed service hours and no way in hell would he volunteer to help out with pep rallies. He figured they had so much school spirit since their mascot was who they were. Bunker High! Home of the Devils! Cas snorted at his own thought, finding his dry humor entertaining. 

Castiel showed up three minutes early to the auditorium to begin the work. He had expected to be alone, not including the couple of theatre kids who came here, but even then he may as well be alone. However, when he showed up, he was immediately greeted by the teacher and a stranger clad in a casual button up shirt and a worn leather jacket. He looked like the kid your mother warned you to stay away from. Cas was caught off guard by the intensity of how green his eyes were. Then he realized he had seen those eyes before. These eyes belonged to their newest neighbors. About a week ago a new family moved in across the street but Cas didn't know he went to this school. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until someone cleared their throat. 

“Castiel?” The teacher asked and Cas nodded. Not exactly the best response but a response nonetheless. 

“This is Dean Winchester, he is new to this school.” The tone was almost condescending. “In order to graduate, he needs some service hours and I signed him up to help us out with the set.” 

Castiel stood silently, wondering why on Earth the teacher was telling him this until he put two and two together, which caused him to sigh.

“I was hoping that you would show him the ropes, keep him on the right track…” The teacher then placed his hand on the boy who looked as if he towered over him. Dean just rolled his eyes, his focus moving from the teacher to Cas. Before Cas could protest, the teacher gave them both a nervous nod and exited the theatre. 

Great. Castiel got stuck with the new kid. Give it about 10 minutes and he can add another name to the list of kids who hated him. Except this may be worse because he lives across the street. After a minute or so of an awkward silence, Dean finally spoke. 

“Hi.” Was all he said, grinning at Castiel like he’d known him for years. He offered him his hand, his eyes crinkling just barely at the sides. “I’m Dean.” Castiel waited a moment before responding. 

“Castiel.” He responded bluntly and a tad meaner than he had originally intended, finally giving him his hand. Cas noted how his slightly calloused hands fit perfectly with his.

“So,” Dean started, not taken aback by Castiel’s unenthusiastic response. His green eyes still on Castiel’s as his handshake lasted just a second longer than it should have. “You come here often?” His lopsided grin was plastered on his face, clearly proud of his comment. 

Castiel almost smiled. Almost. He couldn't help but wonder why on Earth this kid was actually associating with him. Even if today was Dean’s first day, Castiel’s name should have been spoken followed by a word like “fruity” or another six letter word starting with F by someone in their grade. 

Dean’s smile didn’t fade even as Castiel stared blankly at nothing, his mind a million miles away. Dean was still looking at Castiel and suddenly Cas became conscious of everything. Then he realized that Dean was probably waiting for an answer. 

“Uh,” He started dumbly, his hand automatically going to the back of his own neck. He was at loss for words and he had no idea why. Castiel could feel his cheeks begin to heat up and what little confidence he had in himself to respond dissipated. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean commented as he still smiled, his eyes now looking at the buckets of unopened paint and the wooden fixtures that needed to be painted. “Isn’t the play in four months?” 

“Yeah, but he’s kind of neurotic.” Cas let out a breathy laugh, silently thanking him for starting a conversation. “I think he just had auditions two days ago…”

“So we have time?” Dean inquired, his eyes trailing back to Castiel. 

Cas wondered what exactly he meant by the question. “I suppose, why do you ask?” Cas’s own eyes migrated towards Dean.

“How about we blow this popsicle stand?” 

“What, you mean leave?” Cas snorted. 

“Yeah, I mean. We’ve got more than enough time to finish this. Hell— I help my Dad out with stuff ten times as hard as this! Missin’ a day isn't going to kill us, right?” 

“I guess so…” Cas said unsurely. He’d play hooky every now and then but ditching? That was a whole ‘nother level of “bad” that Castiel haven't ventured too. But, it’s not like it was class and could technically be counted as extra curricular and by no means is it technically required…

“What do you say?” Dean asked, his grin returning. 

“Why not?” As Castiel’s mind began to answer his own rhetorical question, he did his best to shove those thoughts away. It was rare — more than rare — for someone to talk to Cas, let alone want to be his friend so this was an offer he couldn't refuse. 

 

—

 

Dean and Castiel had successfully escaped the school. Dean had sweet talked the janitor who caught them and Cas was impressed. Castiel wasn't a kiss up but he knew his way around a conversation with an adult, or so he thought. He figured it was Dean’s eyes, young or old it’s almost impossible not to get lost in them. Dean had explained to him on their way everything he could about the car, or “Baby,” as he called it. He explained why the heat rattled when it was on. Why there was a toy soldier jammed into the door and even told the story of the time him and his brother Sammy, as he called him, carved their initials into the car and how furious their Dad was. Even to this day Dean hasn't seen his father that mad. Cas admired how Dean talked about his family, the way his eyes lit up when he said Sammy. Cas couldn't help but stare. He wished he had someone to talk about him the way Dean talks about the people he loves. 

Dean’s Impala pulled up to the local elementary/middle school. They had about fifteen or so minutes before Sam would be let out and they decided to spend it on the playground. The two found themselves sitting on the swings engaging in small talk. 

“My Dad is a preacher. He does sermons every Sunday and Wednesday.” Castiel explained, expecting the usual wide eyed stared. Everyone always assumed things about him. 

“Oh,” Dean said and Cas’s heart sank. But then Dean smirked and Cas was confused. “Preacher’s kid, huh? And here I thought I was gonna be the bad influence.” 

Cas actually smiled. Not because he was relieved (though he was) but because of Dean. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean’s eyes practically sparkled with mischief. Or maybe they sparkled all the time. 

“Preacher’s kids are the worst!” His sarcasm was evident, his grin pristine and addicting. Or nice. His grin was nice…

“We are not! We’re practically angels, Dean.” Castiel smiled even more. 

“I’ve got my eye on you, Cas.” 

No one had ever called Castiel “Cas.” If they did he wasn't aware of it. Maybe in the third grade but not since middle school let alone his last year of high school. He liked the way it sounded when Dean said it. He was drawn from his thoughts when a boy who looked to be in his pre-teens came running up to the pair. 

“Hey Moose.” Dean said as he ruffled the boys hair. This must be Sam. 

“Dean, I’m not a ‘moose!’ You gotta stop calling me that.” Sam argued, his tone “matter of factly.” But it was quickly followed by a wide grin which told Cas te banter was normal. 

Dean sat up from the swing, “Yeah, right. And I hate pie.” 

“But you love pie?” The boy said confused, his grin dropped and his eyebrows raised as he waiting for an explanation.

“Exactly.” Dean winked and Sam just rolled his eyes and his grin returned. Sam was tall for his age but he was still young and it was quite evident he would be growing more, his body was just under awkward when it came to proportions. 

“Sammy, I want you to meet my new friend. His name is Castiel.” 

Sam looked shocked as his eyes jumped from Cas to Dean. Cas felt his stomach drop, he figured if Sam hated him Dean would too and their friendship would end before it started.  
“You have a friend!?” Sam said, his sarcasm just barely noticeable.

“Shut it, Sammy.” Dean mocked a glare towards Sam, who raised his hands defensively. Sam’s eyes narrowed on Castiel then his jaw dropped. 

“Hey! I know you!” Sam said, his attention fully on Castiel. 

“Y-you do?” His stutter wasn't noticeable, thank God. Was Castiel really intimidated by a middle schooler? Or maybe he wanted Sam to like him. He wasn't sure. 

“Yeah! You're our neighbor, right?” 

Castiel nodded, “I think so.” 

Sam mocked an explosion with his hands. “It all makes sense now! Dean hasn't sto—” Sam was caught off guard by Dean grabbing him and throwing him over his shoulders. 

“Would you look at that? Looks like I caught myself some fresh moose.” Dean smiled but Castiel swore he saw him blush. 

 

—

 

Dean had driven Castiel and Sam home, the whole ride home they blasted classic rock songs and lip synced along and Castiel’s cheeks hurt from grinning. He even joined in for a little bit. Dean pulled into his driveway and made sure Sam got into the house before he walked back to Cas who was just exiting the car. On the way home Cas had wondered what Sam had meant but didn't want to interrupt the karaoke session. 

“So, what do you think of Sammy?” Dean asked, trying to start a conversation before he walked Cas across the street. 

“Any kid who knows ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ by heart is definitely special.” Cas said, which earned a chuckle from Dean. 

“He sure is…” His tone was full of a sudden admiration and Cas felt his heart melt. “I taught him everything he knows.” Dean added, grinning at Cas for a moment.

Cas’s eyes were on the cement as they slowly made their way to his house. It was a short walk, because it was quite literally across the street. Before Cas knew it they were standing by his front door. 

“Dean,” Cas started, his eyes slowly making their way to Dean’s.

“Mmhm?” Dean responded, his attention going to Cas. 

“What was Sam talking about before you picked him up?” 

Dean’s eyes widened for a split second. If you'd have blinked you would have missed it. 

“I’m not sure.” Dean said, smiling. “Well, I gotta head back for dinner. Plus Sam is probably waiting for me".

“Oh, alright.” Cas said, doing his best to hide his disappointment. 

They stood their awkwardly for a second, both unsure of what to do until Castiel decided to offer him his hand. Dean then grabbed his hand and pulled him into a quick hug, like you see in the movies, before he smiled and waved. Castiel couldn't help but watch him walk home. His eyes were drawn to movement by the front curtain of Dean’s house and he swore he saw a flash of brunette hair.. Next he heard a loud groan from Dean. The last thing he heard was Dean yell a threat to his brother who apparently had been watching from the window.


	2. Tis One Thing to be Tempted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Tell me what you think so far, any comment is appreciated! :))
> 
> ps: yes there is probs mistakes I am only human. 
> 
> Enjoy!!! :)

It was about six thirty in the morning on a Friday. Way too early to be up for school in Castiel’s opinion, but his dad didn't drive him to school which meant he either walk the three miles or he takes the bus. While both have their pros and cons, the bus was slightly less terrible. Slightly. Luckily the bus stop was just down the street and around the corner, usually rounding up to a five minute walk. Eight if he was tired and a two minute and thirty three second sprint if he was late. 

The sun was just rising, barely illuminating the road with the help of the street lamps that were still on. Castiel wasn't a morning person, but could be if the occasion called for it. Unfortunately, school was an occasion that called for it. He wore jeans, a grey t-shirt and a darker but still grey sweatshirt over it. It wasn't exactly freezing but it was on the cold side of the spectrum. His backpack was strapped on to both his shoulders and rested just above the center of his back. Cas didn't see the appeal in having your bag hang by your ass. Lost in thought, he didn’t notice that he was no longer alone until someone had greeted him. 

“Cas?” The voice asked and it took him a second to recognize the voice. It belonged to Sam Winchester. 

“Hey, Sam.” Cas said, his tiredness evident in his voice. It was quite the opposite for Sam who was bright eyed and ready to go. “I thought,” He paused, his mind not fully awake, “I would think Dean would drive you?” 

“Since my school starts a different time, it’s easier for me to take the bus…” He paused to think a moment, “But on Fridays it comes earlier.” 

That would explain why Castiel hadn't ever seen him before. Suddenly, an idea floated into his head. 

“Sam?” Cas spoke. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yesterday, you were saying something before Dean picked you up? Do you remember what it was?” 

Sam looked at him, his expression slightly dazed and Cas’s hopes sunk.  
“OH!” Sam exclaimed a tad louder than the occasion called for. “I remember! Dean was talking about how he thought you we—” Sam was cut off by the sound of a horn honking and an engine revving. Out of nowhere, a black Impala was making their way towards them. 

“Samantha!” Dean called as he rolled down the window, parking a couple yards away from the stop. “You forget somethin’?”

“Don’t call me ‘Samantha,’ Dean. ‘Sammy’ and ‘Moose’ are bad enough as it is…” His voice got quiet.

“You love it, and you forgot your lunch. Do you know how long I slaved over the oven?” He asked, grinning.

“For a second as you reached for the peanut butter…” Sam said quietly as he walked up to the car. He was doing his best to hide a grin but was failing miserably.

“That’s right, Sammy-kinz.” Dean leaned over and handed Sam his bagged lunch. Dean’s eyes went to Cas who had been watching this with a huge smile on his face, unbeknownst to him. 

“Hey Angel-Face, need a ride?” Dean teased, a smirk pulling at his lips.

It took Cas a moment to realize that he was talking to him and he could feel his cheeks turn red. He thanked God that it wasn't light enough to where Dean would see it. 

“I— Well, yes. A ride would be great.” He managed to choke out. 

“Don’t you have school, Dean?” Sam asked, almost smugly, watching the two. 

“Hey Sammy.” Dean said, his eyes sparkling. 

“Hey Dean-y.” Sam responded, crossing his arms as if he had leverage in an argument. 

“You uh, missin’ something?” Dean asked, quirking his eyebrow. 

“No.” Sam said, his confidence not seeming to falter.

“Oh really?” Dean’s eyes moved towards Cas, where he winked. Then they fell back onto Sam.

“Then you mind explaining to me why your bus is about to leave?” 

Like glass shattering, Sam’s smile cracked and he groaned as he turned on his heels and sprinted the couple yards to the bus stop. Cas’s attention was drawn back to Dean after he laughed. 

“That kid is something else…” Dean said fondly, his mind still in the previous moment. 

Cas couldn't help but laugh as he watched Sam’s bus drive away, Sam just barely making it.

“Ready?” Dean asked and it drew Cas back to reality. 

With a nod, Castiel opened the passenger door to Dean’s car, making sure not to slam the door. Dean took the car out of park and began to drive. 

“Since we have a little over an hour and the school is a 10 minute drive, you want to head back to my place for a bit?”   
Cas stared blankly at Dean. 

“I mean,” Dean started quickly, “If you don’t want to that’s fine. I just thought since, you know…” His voice trailed off.

“No!” Cas blurted and Dean glanced at him confused. “I mean,” Cas sighed, “Yes.” 

Dean’s face lit up, “Awesome.” 

 

—

 

Cas wasn’t sure what he expected Dean’s house to look like. He didn’t know much about the Winchester’s parents however they did just meet. Cas had to constantly remind himself that they had just met, he had felt like he’d known them for years. When he entered, the house smelled of laundry and Old Spice which was only slightly different than Dean, who smelled like laundry, old spice, and cinnamon. Personally, Cas liked the way Dean smelled better. 

“My casa is to your casa.” Dean said, turning to face Cas as they entered the two story house. “Make yourself at home for the next half hour.” 

Cas placed his bag on the floor just as Dean did.

“Can I get you anything? Water, juice, breakfast?” Dean said as he walked towards what Cas assumed was the kitchen. Cas followed, noticing how bare the walls were. Though they did just move in. 

“I’m good. But thanks.” 

“No problemo. I, however, am going to make myself some scrambled eggs… Is that okay?” Dean asked and Cas thought it was a weird thing to ask. 

“Why wouldn't it be?” Cas asked, his eyebrow raised and his lips turned into a smile.

“I don’t know.” Dean said as he turned on the stove and placed a pan on it. Cas made his way around Dean and then behind him to sit on the island that was in the middle of the kitchen, Dean’s back was to him. “I’m not exactly used to the whole friend thing…” 

You and me both. 

Dean went to the fridge and grabbed two eggs, cracking them both in the pan and Cas watched him. His dad didn’t cook unless it was for church. Which is something Castiel would take offense to if he wasn’t so used to his dad choosing church before him. Dean grabbed the spatula and ‘scrambled’ the eggs. Dean was whistling something and Cas was pretty positive that he wasn't aware he was. He didn’t mind, he liked thinking about the shape of Dean’s lips… 

“Cas?” Dean asked, his back still towards him. 

“Mmmhm?” Cas answered, his mind not fully in the moment. 

“The salt?” Dean asked, and he smiled at the boy. 

“Right. Salt.” Cas had no memory of Dean asking for the salt, but then again he wasn't surprised. Dean grinned that lopsided grin of his and Cas’s mind went blank again. 

“I’ll get it.” Dean said with a fond sigh. As he turned around, he gasped. He wasn't expecting Cas to be so… close. Cas was just a couple inches taller than him since he was sitting on the counter and even if he just took half a step he’d be in Cas’s personal space. But, he needed the salt.

Dean took a whole step closer and he was standing directly in front of Cas, who had seemed to freeze. Dean’s eyes were now on Cas’s as his hand snaked behind Cas, occasionally bumping into his back. Dean’s hand grasped the salt that sat behind Castiel but he didn't bother to move.

“Did you…” Cas breathed out, “Salt?” He wasn't aware that his sentence made no sense. 

Dean blinked and nodded, and neither of them knew what the other had meant. Dean dared to place his other hand on the counter, encasing Cas on the counter and in-between Dean. Cas’s head bent down, his blue eyes slowly migrating down to Dean’s lip. Dean bit his lip as he tilted his head up. He could smell Cas’s peppermint toothpaste and it was heady. 

The once low sizzle of an egg turned to loud popping noises and an unpleasant burning smell wafted into the room and the moment was over. For Cas, at least as he jumped down from the counter and moved the pan away. Not thinking that it would be hot, Cas’s hand was left with a red burn. Dean suddenly was forced back into reality as he quickly made his way around Cas to turn off the stove.

“I’m so sorry.” Dean stated, the guilt evident in his eyes. 

“Dean, it’s fine.” Cas looked at his red hand.

“No, it’s not. It’s all my fault — I — I’ll get you something. You, sit tight.” Dean quickly made his way out of the room and the sound of footsteps running upstairs could be heard. 

“Dean— I’m fine! Really!” Cas called but there was no response. He was fine. Sure, it stung a bit but what stung more was that their moment was over. 

After about five minutes of silence, Cas decided to go upstairs. 

“Dean?” Cas called as he climbed the stairs. The top of the stairs was a hallway with three doors. Two of them were closed and one was cracked. Cas figured the slightly open one was Dean’s. 

“Dean?” Cas called again as he slowly pushed open the door. There he saw Dean kneeled as he searched his dresser drawer, in hand he had some gauze. After a couple more seconds of searching Dean must’ve found what he was looking for because he closed the door and turned to face Castiel. 

“Sit.” Dean instructed and nodded his head toward the bed. Cas did as told. 

Dean took the seat next to Cas and grabbed his hand, which caught Cas completely off guard and he did his best to hide his gasp with a cough. Dean had placed Castiel’s hand on top of his, examining the burn. 

“Alright, this may sting a bit but you’ll thank me later.” With that, Dean grabbed the bottled filled with a red liquid. Dean poured some of the liquid onto Cas’s hand and boy, did it sting like a bitch. 

Instinctively, Cas’s hand shot out of the way and was now gripping Dean’s arm. After a moment the stinging stopped and Cas realized what he did. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean to…” Dean burst out into laughter and Cas froze. 

“Cas, it’s fine.” Dean’s eyes went to look at the handprint that stood on his arm, just under his shoulder. 

“I ruined your shirt.” 

“I ruined your hand. Let me finish.” 

Dean grabbed Cas’s hand once more and the gauze. He tore off a piece and wrapped it around his hand. 

“That should do the trick.” Dean said as he stood up and walked over to his closet.

Cas was still sitting on the bed, his eyes staring at his wound. His finger lightly traced over where the gauze was secured. When he looked up at Dean, he was surprised when he saw him shirtless. His body was tan and toned. He was more toned than a normal high schooler should be, but then again, Dean was different than the ass hats at school. Dean had found a black shirt and pulled it over his head, his signature leather jacket was on the bed. Dean’s eyes searched the room, until they landed on the bed and Cas figured he caught him staring so his eyes went to the floor. Dean walked over to the bed and placed one of his knees so he could have more leverage, he grabbed the leather jacket that was on the bed and stood up, putting it on. Dean glanced at his wrist watch. 

“Shit! We’re gonna’ be late.” 

Cas stood up from the bed, holding his wounded hand in his other hand, his blue eyes on Dean. 

“Let’s go.” Dean let Cas out of his room before he switched off the lights and closed the doors.

Dean and Cas made their way downstairs, grabbing their backpacks and exiting the house and entering the Impala, Cas still taking care not to slam the door. Dean turned the key and started the engine, smiling briefly as the sound never gets old. Dean began driving towards the school.

“Dean, can I ask you something?” 

“You just did.” 

“No, I mean —”

“I’m just messing with ya’, Cas.” Dean smiled but his eyes didn’t leave the road. “What’s the question?”    
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but school doesn’t seem like your thing…” Dean’s eyes were still on the road but his eyebrow was raised. “So why are you worried about being on time?” Cas asked nervously, he felt like his stomach was on the drop of a roller coaster. He didn’t have anxiety or anything diagnosable, but he was anxious about losing his only friend. 

“Well,” Dean started, chuckling softly. “I was only concerned because school seems like your thing…” Dean glanced towards Cas. Castiel did well enough in the work part of school, but the social part definitely wasn’t his thing. In fact, he hated it. The only people who talked to him with some respect were the staff.

“I wouldn’t say it’s “my thing” but—” Cas was cut off by Dean. 

“But?” 

Cas swallowed nervously, his throat suddenly feeling dry. 

“Don’t let me pressure you or anything—” Cas was cut off again by Dean laughing. 

“Sorry, sorry. Continue.” He grinned. 

“Would you maybe, and don’t feel like you have to say yes, but would you feel like ditching?” Cas’s eyes watched Dean’s face, trying to gauge a reaction. Ditching wasn’t Cas’s idea of fun, but a day with Dean trumped school.

“Hell yeah!” Dean was grinning from ear to ear, in his excitement he sped up the car. “What did I say? Preacher’s kids are the worst.” Dean laughed and Cas just smiled. 

 

—

 

Dean had taken Cas to a small lake about 15 minutes away from their house. Funny how Cas has lived here his whole life yet it took a new person to show him new things in an old town. The lake was untouched by man, except for a fountain that kept the water circulating. There were no sewer pipes or chemicals being put into the water and Cas was stunned. The lake was beautiful, surrounded in bountiful viridescent grass (but still didn’t rival Dean’s eyes), the blue from the sky reflected onto the pond and it was the softest blue. 

Dean and Cas had made themselves comfortable on the grass. Cas sat with his legs crossed and Dean sat with his two hand supporting him and his legs fully extended. They began to find a pattern of going to outdoor places and getting into conversation. This time they were past small talk. 

“If you could do anything, Cas. What would it be?” Dean paused, “No judgements, no catches.”

“I would audition for the play.” Cas said without a delay. Words seem to come out smoother with Dean and it surprised Cas. If anyone else had asked would've made something up. He’s never told anyone about this but it was Dean and he felt so comfortable with him. 

“The school one?” He repeated, his head turning towards Cas. Cas nodded and averted his gaze to the soft ripples in the pond.

“What’s stopping you?” Dean asked and Cas had to physically prevent himself from scoffing. 

“You mean, besides the fact I’m gay and everyone hates me?” Cas had opened his mouth to say more but froze. He wasn't in the closet by any means, but Dean didn’t seem to know about that. Dean made a noise in the back of his throat and Cas swore he was going to pass out. 

“You’re serious?” Dean said in a low tone, it resembled a growl. Dean stood up and Cas could practically feel the resentment radiating off of him. This was it. Their friendship was over. It was doomed from the start and deep down Cas knew that he really did but he was naive and let himself get close. It was good run, really. I mean, it takes most kids less than a day to figure they hate him. At least Dean was one of the good ones. 

“You’re gonna let those ass hats stop you from auditioning for a play?” Dean’s eyes were on Cas, staring intently. 

“W-hat?” 

“You have to at least give yourself a chance, Cas! Don’t let those self righteous bitches stand in your way!”

“I—What?” 

Dean rolled his eyes and made his way towards Cas, offering his hand and helping him up. He then took a couple of steps back. 

“Alright… And, action!” 

Cas stood frozen, it was like his dazed expression was engraved onto his features. 

“What?”   
Dean laughed and Cas stared dumbly. 

“Show me! I wanna see you be Romeo.” 

“Dean. You can’t be serious.” 

“Oh, but I am.” Dean smirked and Cas crossed his arms. There was something about the way that Dean was staring at him that convinced him to do it. 

With an eye roll and dramatic sigh, Cas began. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this.” Cas’s tone was more or less monotonic, but Dean was impressed he knew the quote. 

“Damn! I had no idea you were—” Dean was cut off when Cas continued, quickly throwing a smirk towards him.

“My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand.” Cas hadn’t noticed, but he was slowly migrating towards Dean. 

“Alright, Romeo. What else you got?” 

Cas’s tone had become slightly less apathetic as he neared Dean.

“To smooth that rough touch with a tender kis—” 

Dean had placed both hands on Cas’s cheeks and closed the gap between them, drawing him in for a kiss. Cas immediately went into the kiss. He personally thought that feeling “sparks” was a lame and overused cliche, so he would describe this feeling like you would describe a forrest fire. Cas’s hands grazed Dean’s neck which sent a satisfying shiver down his spine. Cas’s hand eventually went to rest on Dean’s shoulder. After a minute, the two pulled back for air, their foreheads leaning on each other’s.

“If you do that half as good, I guarantee you’ll get the part.” Dean said in a low, almost husky tone. 

“I wasn't exactly acting, Dean.” Cas responded, his lips pulling into a smile. He never noticed the gold specks in Dean’s eyes until now.

“I wasn’t talking about that, Cas.” This response earned Dean an eye roll. Both of their hands had slid down to each others arm, distancing the space between their upper bodies slightly in an awkward but sweet embrace.

Cas smiled, “I’m pretty sure auditions passed.” He added, his tone still hushed. He felt that if he spoke loud, that this would shatter or he’d wake up from this. 

“They’re tomorrow. I saw a flyer when we were supposed to be painting.” A ghost of a smirk pulled at Dean’s lips. 

“You’re serious?” Cas asked, with a sigh. 

“Uh-uh.” Dean said, the two were still tangled together.

“I have stage fright, Dean.”   
“I’ll go. Sit right up front.” 

“Dean, I don’t know.”

“I know. You’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay. Fine.” 

“So you’re gonna’ do it!?” 

“Yes! Just stop bringing it up.” Cas responded, laughing through the sentence.

“Awesome.” Dean responded, a huge grin taking up his face. 

Castiel still couldn’t believe that boy he just met convinced him to do something he’s wanted to do for years.


End file.
